


Baby, pick me up, spin me 'round, take me on a ride

by ravelqueen



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: (as a couple), (last year of high school so 17-18 depending, Aged-Up Character(s), Animal Traits, Biting, Canon Compliant, Double Dick, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fujiki Yuusaku is Not a Virgin, M/M, Mild Blood, POV Fujiki Yuusaku, Sappy, Takeru is way too complex with all his feelings, Yuusaku is tired now, bunny Fujiki Yuusaku, liberties taken with animal physionomy, shark Homura Takeru, too many feelings not enough smut, underage warning just to be safe)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-27 00:57:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18293612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravelqueen/pseuds/ravelqueen
Summary: Takeru is beingweirdabout him and - more importantly - refusing to fuck him. Yusaku is determined to find out why.(Or the one with shark!Takeru and bunny!Yusaku, but in the end that doesn't matter at all, because most importantly it'sthem)





	Baby, pick me up, spin me 'round, take me on a ride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [A Caffeinated Crisis (TabbbyWright)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabbbyWright/gifts).



> This is a super belated birthday gift, for the amazing and exceptional Pachi! She has been a continuing delight and I'm so glad to share this fandom obsession with her!
> 
> In honor of her and her birthing over two decades ago, I finally produced my first full length Firestorm fic -- which wasn't supposed to be _quite_ so full length, but I have officially lost control of my life as proven by the frankly _insane_ and completely self-indulgent word count, so here we are. This is more feelings and less bunny fucking than originally planned, but Pachi has assured me she's here for both of it ;)  
> Title is from Ke$ha's song 'Boots' which just screams TakeYusa
> 
> I hope you (and everyone else) enjoys this, have fun!

To be honest, Yusaku does not know what to expect out of actually fucking Takeru. It is a novel feeling, somewhat. Not just because of the shark thing, though that is definitely part of it. While predators are nothing unusual and he’d absolutely been fucked by many of them, sharks are a rarity.

Takeru always gets this weird look on his face when someone points it out and in the grand scheme of things, Yusaku doesn’t much care – people might have said that they were _captivated by his adorable bunny charm_ , but he’s rather certain a lot of that is just lifted from porn. Maybe it does something for other people, but he’d mostly needed to hide his rolling eyes.

The main difference, the reason this is even a question he now apparently needs to be asking himself, is that they have been going out for a long time. And nothing has happened. (He knows that Takeru doesn’t consider 3 months a lot, but then he’s a bit weird about these things, absentmindedly talking about where they might live in 5 years.)

Sure they’d fooled around, but nothing substantial. He’s only seen Takeru’s dicks once and that was mostly because Takeru was too into it to notice that he’d fully pulled them out.

If Takeru just wasn’t that into him, that would be one thing, but he’s pretty sure that’s not it. For one, he sees the way Takeru watches his body. The way his eyes linger on his collarbone, the flush he gets sometimes, staring at his lips. How quickly he gets hard.

For another, the reason they even got together in the first place is that Takeru kissed him one day out of the blue. Only to run away, forcing Yusaku to break into his apartment when the stares from everyone else at Takeru’s absence got too annoying.

The tearful, broken confession about how he just couldn’t _help_ himself, how he just wanted _so much_ , how important and special Yusaku was. How that’s no excuse.

He’d looked so sad. It had _hurt_ in some unspecified way he still doesn’t know how to name. It made him act at the time, made him kiss Takeru quiet. Surprised to find himself wanting to.

 _“What – ? , Does that mean ?”_ Takeru had sounded so stunned, been so close that Yusaku could see some of the tears on his eyelashes.

“ _What do you want it to mean?”_ he’d asked, surprising himself at how much he genuinely wanted to know the answer.

 _“That – I mean – “_ flustered Takeru was back. It had made something in his back unclench, muscles relaxing he hadn’t known were tense with the Takeru shaped absence in his daily routine, _“Doyouwannagooutwithme!?”_

And there was so much hope in his eyes, so much of _something_ that Yusaku didn’t know the name of. So he didn't even think about it, couldn’t think about it. Just said _sure_. Tried to just let the little spark of warmth in his chest at the kisses that followed, at the happiness on Takeru’s face, in his manner, as unexamined as possible.

He can still remember exactly what Takeru’s face looked like in that moment. He doesn’t know why, but he does. He also remembers how dirty those kisses got, how Takeru’s dicks felt grinding through their clothes. He knows _exactly_ why he can remember that part well.

It’s … strange and somewhat unsettling to feel like the aggressor in this, to _want_ it, him so much. And he very much does – not just for himself or because those dicks had been rather substantial, but because he wants this first time to be _over_ with, simply so Takeru can stop being weird about it.

And he _is_. Yusaku checked with Ai to be sure – not his first choice normally, but he knows Takeru would hate it if he talked to Ema and those two watch all those romance dramas together, so clearly Ai must at least somewhat understand how Takeru sees these things.

To Yusaku the whole idea of “taking our time” has been weird from the beginning, but apparently that part is _romantic_ and _considerate_.

But recently Takeru has started avoiding Yusaku again, making up excuses not to stay late. Which is frustrating if only because he’s an awful liar and seeing him trying desperately to think of something plausible has long lost the amusement factor (though he did win the bet with Ema that he’d use a ‘I need to do my laundry’ excuse at some point).The fact that sex apparently isn't too high on the list of things Takeru wants to do with him makes him uneasy.

He knows what to do when someone wants his body. Whatever Takeru was thinking to get out of their relationship is so much more undefined, nebulous – unpredictable. He's never tried to keep someone with him through seduction, but it turns out that it would actually be nice to be able to rely on it.

As it stands he doesn't know what action to take to get rid of the increasing distance between them, doesn't know what to do about the fact that he apparently _wants_ that.

It could also be that actually “going out” with him isn't what Takeru thought it would be – the fantasy not living up to the reality of it. That part Yusaku isn't too sure about. He doesn't know what Takeru wants out of this, what he wants it to be. Doesn’t understand where Takeru’s interest in him comes from in the first place, if it’s not his body.

It’s not like he can much kid himself about his social skills, the people in his life he does have only there through shared pain, soldered together by blood and tears and the metallic aftertaste of loss.  Takeru meanwhile is kind and generous, amassing new friends around him easily, walking with him through the school’s halls always peppered with people _just wanting to say hello_ a concept so foreign to him that he couldn’t help staring at these people in distrust the first few times.

He also knows that if that iis the reason for the avoidance, for the awkwardness, for the gap between them – that Takeru is too nice to say so.

Even if he’s realized that what he wants is someone who is affectionate, expressive, strong, _normal_ – someone like him – he’d never want to hurt Yusaku with the truth. He’d smile and be gentle and lie to himself to keep going. Beyond everything else, he really doesn’t want that.

Maybe it really is nothing, maybe this is normal behaviour and all of it is in his head. Ai might not know what he’s talking about. Even if he’s right and there is something –  maybe he needs to listen to Kusanagi-san’s advice and be patient, wait till Takeru is ready to talk to _him_.

Thinking isn't getting him anywhere, Takeru's motives are too incomprehensible to use as a base for a successful strategy. So he's decided to do what he's best at – a strong frontal attack. He thinks he has enough cards in his deck to react, to win the endgame.

One way or another he needs to find clarity, because this is too confusing. It’s keeping him up at night, more than usual now that he’s gotten better at sleeping. It’s making him irritable, snapping at Ai, testy with Takeru. The problem is that he’s never truly been good at being patient, not when it _mattered_ , not when it was gnawing at him every single day. Not when he can _do_ something about it.

So today when Takeru starts to realise that they've been alone for a while, that they are moving towards the time it would be natural to take this from the very public park they met in to a more private setting. When he starts fidgeting, his eyes roaming around, not settling, his voice going up, jumpiness in every movement. When it's clear he's gearing up for another of his ridiculous excuses.

That is the moment Yusaku goes for the attack.

“Do you want to break up?” he's trying to stay neutral, because he's not going to use Takeru’s kindness to keep him in a place he doesn't want to be. And yet his voice doesn't sound as strong as he'd like.

The way Takeru goes instantly pale is also gratifying in a way he resolves not to question.

“NO!” He shouts, startling some nearby pigeons.  “Why would I want that!?” he sounds panicky now, hands hovering slightly above Yusaku’s frame. “Do _you_ -” his voice cracks.

Yusaku frowns. That's not what he wanted out of this, Takeru frantic in the wrong way.

“This is fine.“ he says hoping it's the right thing to say.

Takeru takes a step back, quietly unhappy in the way he gets when something truly gets to him that he feels he can't change. _Damn._

“I don't want to break up.” he tries again. This time he seems to have managed to do it right – Takeru's brow smoothes out again, a bashful smile he can't suppress, a hint of teeth shining through.

Yusaku breathes out slowly time for the next move. All of this was a minefield, traps he can’t see, isn’t aware of. But it’s important to not move this into the wrong direction before he’s oven gotten to the crucial part.

“Why won't you fuck me?” The person on the next bench sends him a dirty look and moves away. _Good._ This way he can circumvent Takeru's next move which is going to be –

“ _We can't talk about that here.”_ he hisses, beet-red and miserable. But Yusaku knew that would happen, prepared a counter just in case.

“Why not.” he points at the empty space around them with a wide gesture the way Ai had suggested, to _add weight._ “No one is listening.”

Takeru seems to notice the same thing and he's panicking in earnest now. Yusaku can tell because his gills have started fluttering, as if trying to help in his attempt to catch his breath.

He's distracted by this for a second, the way he's always somewhat interested in Takeru’s physiognomy. Bunnies are a dime a dozen, but predators, especially _water_ predators, are extremely rare. It both fits and doesn’t fit with who Takeru tries to be.

He’s told Yusaku numerous times, that he doesn’t like to be _seen_ , would rather be one of the crowd, but Yusaku thinks he’ll always stand out, too passionate, too loud to be easily overlooked. He also knows that Takeru is unhappy with being dangerous, being perceived as someone to be wary of, that he consciously tries to protect an image of harmlessness.

“Maybe so.” Takeru says, throwing him out of his train of thought. “But this is still _private_.”

He’s clearly waited too long to press his attack - the other man has his composure back. Or at least as much as he ever has around Yusaku. It gives him a bit of a thrill to know that the slight flush on his neck, the tiniest widening of Takeru’s pupils are because of _him_ , something Takeru can’t hide or pretend away. It’s weird, because he’s trained himself to _not notice_ these things in most people, his heightened senses a burden when he doesn’t want to deal with people’s wants and attractions to him.

They don’t concern him, but if he notices people assume he cares. Somehow though with Takeru it never makes him feel cornered, instead it does what he assumes people talk about when they say being desired makes them feel powerful.

It was one of the reasons he’d kissed back, that day in his flat, with Takeru suddenly looming above him.

“Alright.” he replies, but before he can reflect too deeply on the obvious signs of relief on Takeru’s face, he’s grabbed his hand, pulling him along.

“What – “

“If this is too public, we’ll go somewhere private.” He can almost hear Ai cheering. _Staying on the offensive_ , _Playmaker-sama!! How bold!_

“But – “ He stops abruptly, making Takeru run into him. For a second he can feel his whole body against his back, the abs that are never visible through the wide shirts he normally wears.

He turns around, their faces close together, getting the other man to grab his upper arms on instinct. Takeru must have felt his body too, flushed and off-balance. _Good._

“Why not?” he asks. “Give me a reason.”

“Not three?” Takeru replies, eyes darting everywhere, snagging on his lips and collar bone where Yusaku has purposely left the top buttons undone. “How unusual.”

Yusaku can’t suppress the slight smile at the reference. It’s good to see Takeru still joking, despite his nervousness. The point of this isn’t to make him _too_ uncomfortable after all, only off-balance enough that he won’t see Yusaku’s hopefully winning combo coming. It would be really a shame if he manages to find out whatever his hangup with sex is only to have him wholly not in the mood afterwards.

“I’ll let you off with one.” He makes sure to keep his voice extra light, a breathy quality to it that he knows really gets to people. Normally he doesn’t do it on purpose, just notices when the people around him suddenly breathe heavier, their scents thicker. But today he’s actively trying to keep Takeru unsteady, but still interested. This seemed like a good method, even if it led to an awkward practice session that left him mostly with a distaste for his own voice. At least Ai was amused.

The effect is instantaneous, Takeru’s eyes narrowing, his mouth opening the tiniest bit to show his razor sharp teeth, arousal coming off him in waves. He tightens the hands on his arms and leans in the slightest bit, the way he does when he’s not thinking about it, all his focus on Yusaku’s mouth. It makes him feel like prey, it makes him _tingle_ all over, this charge between them.

And then he gets to see in real time how Takeru just – shuts it down. Lets go of Yusaku as if he’s burning, mouth unhappy and tight, the flush on his cheeks one of humiliation and disgust.

And suddenly it’s all too much for him.

“Why do you _do_ that?” he asks and he wishes he could inject anger into his voice, but he’s just _tired_ . This has been going on for so long and he doesn’t _understand_.

“I- I don’t – “ and he can see Takeru is close to telling him what is going on. Whatever it is that Yusaku isn’t doing or doing wrong. Only to see him changing direction at the last second “ know what you mean.”

He actually sounds dejected. Say what you like, Yusaku at least is getting better at reading him and his many, complex emotions. Or maybe he’s just fooling himself into thinking so, because whatever this is, he has no idea.

“Alright.” he says, sighing. Time to walk away for now. Because that’s that, attack failed. Takeru doesn’t want to tell him. He doubts things will go better if he gets him into his apartment like he’d planned. Because if he looks hunted _now_ , out in the open, he doesn’t know how he’ll feel when they enter a building. He doesn’t want to be the sort of person who makes Takeru feel trapped. They’ve both had enough of that for a lifetime.

He’s already turning, when he hears the quiet mutter of “You wouldn’t understand.”

Actually, fuck this.

“Excuse me?” Takeru’s head snaps back at the way his voice sounds, hard and unforgiving.

“I - I mean, it’s just – “ He’s had enough of this, the defeated feeling from before burning away to be replaced with determination. He grabs Takeru’s wrist again and marches in the other direction. He can feel him stumbling behind him, but right now he doesn’t give a fuck  – he’s supposed to be an apex predator and the rising star of whatever sport he plays, he’ll be fine.

He’s down to 100 life points, but just for a second he’s forgotten that that means _nothing_ to him. This is where the fight _begins_.

They reach Takeru’s apartment in record time. He’s breathing heavily, because he’s not used to walking that quickly, that long outside of VRAINS.  When Ai first read that _bunnies are natural sprinters_ he had a 10 minute laughing fit. No matter, he’s going to grit his teeth, ignore the burning in his lungs. After this, the explaining should be done by _Takeru_ in any case.

“Ara, Takeru welcome h –” Flame breaks his greeting off, observing. He takes in Yusaku dragging Takeru behind him. He’s not looked back, but by the narrowed eyes Takeru doesn’t look too happy. “Yusaku.”

They normally get along well, but he knows (because Windy delighted in telling him) that Flame disapproves of him as Takeru’s boyfriend. It’s why he planned to do this at his apartment, but he doesn’t want to put the other man too much on the defensive by also knowing that Ai is around.

“Could you –” he gasps out, takes another deep breath, “give us some space.” Flame is clearly not pleased with the suggestion, but Takeru must give him a nod behind Yusaku’s back, because he only says “Certainly.” and vanishes into the network. Yusaku’s heard the veiled threat, but he doesn’t have time to think about that whole disaster-in-the-making. First, he has to see if this is going to even stay a problem for him.

He finally turns around to see Takeru fidgeting behind him. He’s not even slightly out of breath, the bastard.

“So. Private Space. Talk.” he throws out, combative. Takeru’s head snaps up, as if he didn’t expect Yusaku to call him on it, which is just another sign that he’s not firing on all cylinders right now. Why else would he bring him here.

“I – There isn't – What do you –”

“You won't fuck me.” he says cutting through the stuttering. “Why?”

“Why would you think -” he stops there – probably something on Yusaku’s face. “It’s nothing?” he tries nonetheless.

“It’s something.” he says, holding up his right hand. “One: I’ve been paying attention and you definitely _want_ to fuck me, yet we aren’t. Two: You say you don’t want to break up but for weeks now you have avoided being alone with me. Three: If it was nothing, why would you say it _“I wouldn’t understand’’_.” he finishes.

He takes the opportunity to take three steps closer to Takeru, crowding him against the back of his sofa and Takeru looks truly stricken, pale and uncomfortable, eyes darting to the door, as if he is ready to run out of his _own_ apartment. Yusaku sighs, can’t help himself and Takeru goes even paler, seeming truly miserable.

Yusaku steels himself against it – someone with shark teeth really shouldn’t be able to look that small and vulnerable, but this is how Takeru has gotten out of any version of this conversation before. But not this time.

“Clearly there is a reason.” he states it as a fact, because the constant useless avoidance is truly getting to him. “Which means I guess the question I _should_ have been asking you is – why don’t you want to tell me?” he finishes in a musing tone. He hadn’t really thought about it this way, but Takeru’s face tells him he’s on the right track, that his attacks are hitting him where it counts.

He’s trying to think of more words, of a way to deliver the last blow, but he’s already said so much – words have never been his strong point and he’s struggling, can’t seem to find the ones that are going to unlock what he needs to know.

So he just keeps staring, trying to discern his strategy from Takeru’s face, a devastating effect spun from the movement of his throat and the widening of his eyes.

In the end, apparently that _was_ unintentionally the right move, scrutiny driving Takeru to the breaking point, so he lets out a squeaked “IjustDon’tWantYouToHateMe!!” before hiding his face in his hands.

He blinks. Confusing, but at least it seems they are getting somewhere. “What?”

“I – When we are getting…” he whispers the next word as if it’s a shameful secret, “ _intimate.”_ He stops there for a galvanizing breath, the blush rising high in his cheeks. Yusaku tries not to make any quick movements, but he can feel his ears lifting, trying to catch every syllable even where they are almost unintelligible between Takeru’s hands. Thankfully, the other boy can’t see his tail twitch impatiently. He doesn’t want him to stop this explanation after all.

“I don’t know – I don’t think,” he looks up at Yusaku, pleading, eyes wide, waiting for the axe to fall “I can control myself.”

“What.” he says in the ensuing silence. He can’t suppress the disbelieving tone.

“I would never want to hurt you, Yusaku!” he says urgently, crawling from behind his hands to almost grab him, hands ending up hovering uselessly in the air. “I promise, you _have_ to believe me, but – “ he looks down, hands lowering to clench into fists, true anguish in his voice, “When we are that close, when I get that excited, I don’t know if I can keep my _urges_ in check.”

“ _What.”_ there is something strange rising in him and he curiously observes that it seems to be honest outrage, because _what the fuck_.

“I know this has to scare you.” Takeru’s sounds hollow, “I just hoped – “ he breaks off, a curious watery note making the next sentence tremble, “I understand if that changes things between us –”

“Shut up.” he says. Takeru flinches, trying to make himself smaller in front of Yusaku. “So what you are telling me,” he continues, dangerous edge in his voice that makes Takeru shrink even more, but he doesn’t care, he cannot _believe_ him, “is that, the reason you’ve been cock-blocking us for _months_ is because you are afraid of a bit of _biting!?”_

“What?” Takeru looks up, shock all over his face.

 _“Really.”_ he says, trying to put in as much disparagement into the one word. Ai would be proud.

“It’s – it’s not just biting!” Takeru exclaims, though right after he gets a funny look on his face, as if he’s never imagined the conversation to go into this direction.

“What else?” he shoots back.

“What do you mean what else?”

“You said that it’s not just biting.” he repeats, in case Takeru had forgotten, “What else? Tie me up? Blood play?”

Takeru’s mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out. Yusaku rolls his eyes. “Anything permanently damaging?” Takeru silently shakes his head, eyes wide.

“Ok then.” Yusaku says, grabbing Takeru’s arm and walking determinedly towards the bedroom.

“Wait –, what,” he sounds dismayed, but for all that Takeru isn't resisting which is about how serious Yusaku needs to take the objection – if  he'd wanted he could have stopped Yusaku in his tracks. It's almost a shame he doesn't. There is something about Takeru’s effortless use of strength that always makes a shiver go down his spine.

“What do you think?” he says, propelling them into Takerus bedroom, using the momentum to deposit him on the bed.

“You mean, _right now?”_ The blush is all over his face, hands uselessly fluttering, making a choking sound when he sees Yusaku rummaging through his night table for some lube.

“Why, do you have _another_ reason we shouldn't?” he squints at the label. It will do, but he really needs to make Takeru stop buying the cheap brands. “A non stupid one this time.”

“It's not stupid to not want to hurt someone I l– _oh my God”_ he squeaks out, presumably because of Yusaku stripping, but with Takeru who can tell. Yusaku officially gives up trying to understand him. All that agonizing Yusaku did the past month, the mortifying conversation with Ai and it was _this. Afraid to hurt him_ for crying out loud.

“You plan to join me?” he asks chucking off his shirt. He looks up because he's expected some more embarrassed noises. What he finds instead is a _predator._

Takeru has gotten up and instead of the fidgeting he's used to, he's completely still, all his attention fixed on him, pupil swallowing up the usual warm colour of his eyes, breathing heavy and deep.

It makes his hairs stand on end, makes him freeze in turn, ears twitching madly. In that moment he can tell Takeru _is_ dangerous _,_ the air between them crackling, making it hard to catch his breath. He's extremely aware of his naked flesh, being defenseless, of Takeru fully clothed and almost looming.

Takeru takes the first measured step towards him and he can't move;the tiny animal inside him screaming at him torn between wanting to run away and the faint hope that maybe if he stays completely still the killer in front of him will not see him, pass him by. He swallows, mouth dry and dick half hard.

He’s breathing quick and shallow and at last moving backwards, taking the long circuit towards the bed in tandem with Takeru’s controlled and measured steps, a confidence and swagger in him that Yusaku is normally only used to seeing from Soulburner, the assuredness of a beast who knows its prey won’t escape.

The edge of the mattress hits his legs, so he lets himself fall backwards, enjoying the delicious shiver brought on by Takeru standing over him, wide and dominant. It also puts him at just the right height to nuzzle the bulge straining through Takeru’s jeans – he smells amazing, always does, one of the things that was surprising and new about getting close to him, the way his smell could illicit so many emotions in him. Safety, comfort and also, here and now, arousal, making his dick slightly harder, making him want to move closer to the pulsing warmth of him with an intensity that’s almost disturbing.

It didn't use to be like this – or maybe just not in this way. Blanket statements about how much people are influenced or like their animals have always annoyed him inasmuch as how people reacted to him being so unlike a bunny – how often they confused quietness for meekness.

He doesn't know how much influence it really has, has only seriously started thinking about it recently, with Ai so fascinated at this blend, so unused to anything as irrational as instincts at all. Yusaku likes to think that he could contain his libido – he just hasn't seen any reason to do so before. As annoying as bunny stereotypes are, they make it very easy to find people who are ready to fuck him into next week without a lot of effort or input required of him at all.

What's different is not that he wants to be fucked – it's that he wants it from someone in particular. He's used to the gnawing itch, the need, but now he's hungry for it in a way that's not just his body, _wants_ it with the full force of a desire he doesn't remember ever having experienced.

It could be the deprivation, the long period of not getting it, anticipation making _this_ all the sweeter, making him scrabble at Takeru's fly, desperate to get closer, breathing in deeply when he finally gets to touch the hot skin underneath with almost an euphoria. Or it could be something else.

He refuses to think about that now, not when he's finally so close to getting what he wants, when him sucking in the tip of Takeru's upper dick doesn't get him a yelp and a stuttering excuse but instead a deep groan and a hand buried in his hair.

“Yusaku, _oh god_.” Takeru sounds delirious with it, much further gone than Yusaku expected him to be at this point. It prompts him to fully go down on him, even though it’s irrational – he doesn’t want this to be over yet – but his voice is fascinating, a deeper timbre entering it, menacing and thrilling at once.

The hand in his hair tightens up, slightly painful tearing at his hair. Takeru uses it to tilt his head at an angle that makes his dick slip a few more centimetres inside Yusaku’s mouth, choking him with it. His eyes lower to half-mast at that, a tiny moan he can’t suppress – before he’s suddenly ripped off it and thrown back on the bed.

He looks up annoyed to see Takeru with a wild look on his face, breathing like he’s just run a marathon, hands balled into fists. It brings him up short. The arousal makes sense, but there is something else, something _wrong_. True panic or something close to it, resignation, something deep and hurting.

He’s trying to get his thoughts together to figure out what is going on, because this isn’t supposed to be _bad_ for Takeru – Yusaku thought he got the problem, but clearly there is more, something deeper than just a weird hang up about biting. Something that would put that awful look onto his face.

For a fleeting moment he wishes he could be someone better, someone good enough at people to know what to do, to have figured out that it couldn’t be that easy. But he can’t think of anything, nothing to make this better, so just blurts out. “You’re lucky I’m always careful with my teeth.”

It drops into the silence between them and just as he’s appalled at himself, Takeru starts laughing. It has an edge of hysteria to it, but it unravels the hard knot in the pit of his stomach that had formed at the heavy silence between them.

He rolls his eyes, but his voice sounds relieved when he goes on. “You wouldn’t be laughing if I’d bit down.”

Takeru shudders at that, “I _really_ wouldn’t have.” he cautiously looks down at the edge of the bed, “Thank you.” he says it a bit too earnestly for it to just be about the fact that Yusaku didn’t maul him. God he’s complicated.

“I still have a use for it.” he answers and Takeru goes red at that, laughing nervously, eyes avoiding Yusaku’s again.

“You can’t mean that, I mean –”

“We’ve already had this conversation.” because Takeru is _not_ going to start this again.

Takeru must hear the impatience in his tone, since he comes to attention the way he always does, when he feels like he might be losing ground with Yusaku, might be wearing out his welcome. Where he got the idea that he’s always one strike away from being kicked to the curb is a mystery to Yusaku. It’s bothersome, but Yusaku does _not_ have the capacity to fight him on two fronts right now. One battle at a time.

“It’s one thing for me to _say_ it.” his voice is entreating, as if trying to convince Yusaku of the truth of it. He’s alsol keeping a careful distance and his eyes are clearly working hard not to stray to Yusaku’s naked chest in front of him. “But this just proves that I really can’t be trusted with this, with _you_ yet.”

“ _Wha_ t proves this?!” This is his least favourite thing about their relationship henceforth – where Takeru will say incomprehensible nonsense with so much earnesty that Yusaku is convinced that they live in two different realities. Nothing Takeru has done ever or in the last half an hour would justify a loss of trust.

“I _hurt_ you!” he says, scandalized.

“Barely.” It’s the absolute truth, his scalp is still tingling a bit but that’s it. Takeru looks at him with that particular blend of disbelief, pain and tenderness that always leads to Yusaku wanting to squirm, warm and exposed.

“I will get myself control, though, I _promise._ ” Takeru goes on, as if he hadn’t said anything, emotion making him  forget himself enough to grab his hands, conviction shining in his eyes, fire lighting him from within.

“Nothing makes me as happy as being with you.” he goes on. Yusaku really can’t figure him out, how he can blush at a hickey and then just _say_ stuff like this without any problems at all.” I _will_ make sure I can get you everything you deserve.”

He holds his eyes for a moment longer before their situation seems to crash down on him again, Yusaku half naked on his bed, with him bent over him, fully clothed aside from one of his dicks still hanging out of his underwear. He drops Yusaku’s hands like they scald him and nearly over balances and topples off the mattress as a result.

“But! I also!” he continues, much too loud, but clearly determined to get through this. It almost makes Yusaku smile. There is something about Takeru when he’s confident that gets to him, makes him a bit helpless and short of breath. But he likes him more like this – blushing and flailing, shining like a sun. “Don’t want you! To, uhh, think that I don’t want you.” his voice cracks on the word, he whispers it between them like he’ll die of embarrassment if it’s said too loud.

“Ok.” Yusaku says. Clearly his approach up to now hasn’t been the correct one, but possibly that is because they weren’t _him_ . Takeru keeps saying that he’s here for _Yusaku_ , though, so maybe this time _his_ methods are actually called for – problem solving. “What are you doing to get this control?” He scoots back on the bed to sit against the headboard, thinking that he maybe should have had this conversation before stripping off.

“Uh.” clearly Takeru did not expect him to ask that. “I’ve been meditating a lot?”

“How is that working out?” he asks, trying to keep his sarcasm to a minimum. It doesn’t work too well.

“I’m sorry,” Takeru says again, anguish in his voice, “I just don’t know and what if I seriously hurt you and then – “

“I’m not scared of you.” he says, cutting him off. Complete silence follows his words. When he looks up in surprise, Takeru looks absolutely _gutted_ , open and vulnerable, face slack and eyes watery. He realises he hasn’t said that before.

He looks down, swallows “How can you say that when I just – “ Yusaku uses his distraction to  grab Takeru’s hand, yanking him on top of him. He ends up with his knees on either side of Yusaku’s hips, hovering over him, his only option if he doesn’t want to crush him.

“You don’t get to tell me how I feel.” he says quietly, but with emphasis. Because Takeru keeps _doing_ it and there aren’t a lot of things that he does that truly displease him, but that is one of them. He takes a breath to calm down again, to get rid of the mix of anger and helplessness it always inspires and tries to  feel himself through his next words.

They feel right, feel like they are finally what he wants to say, _needs_ to say to get through to Takeru, everything falling into space, his cards pulling together. “I’m not scared of what you can do.”

“You don’t know that.” Takeru says into the space between them, quiet. He expects his voice to sound wet, but it’s brittle instead. “You didn’t see.”

“Didn’t see what?” he pulls a bit again, trying to get him to look up and all strength seems to go out of Takeru. He buries his head in Yusaku’s neck, fully settles down on his lap, arms hanging at his side. Takes a deep breath.

“There was a time.” he says, “Before we met. Where I wasn’t...ok.”

Yusaku feels some of the fight leave him at that too, one ear dropping on top of Takeru’s head where they were standing up in agitation. Because… _yeah_. He realises he’s still holding one of Takeru’s hands and intertwines their fingers.

“That was before I knew about you, about Playmaker.” he goes on, hopelessness entering his voice and it’s always weird to Yusaku, almost humbling to know how much what he did for his own stupid, selfish reasons resonated with Takeru. How much it meant to him. “And I just didn’t care. About anyone.”

“That’s a lie.” he says with absolute conviction. Because no matter who Takeru was before they met, no matter the scars the Lost Incident left him with, Yusaku is sure of that. Takeru _cares_ , utterly and passionately. He cares in a way Yusaku can’t fathom, can only touch the edges of, hoping he won’t get burned.

Takeru snorts “Yeah ok, maybe. I cared about Kiku and my grandparents. But I didn’t care about myself, about where I was going, because I didn’t think I would be going anywhere.” He feels him take another deep breath, bracing himself for whatever it was he felt he needed to tell Yusaku first, before they move forward. “And I was just so angry _all the time_. So when some boys came up to me spoiling for a fight, I just...let go.” He says it like a confession, like a hammer coming down.

“I want to say I don’t remember what I did. But I do. At the end of it 3 of them ended up in the hospital,” he continues, his voice hollowed out, just despair and weariness. It compels Yusaku to gingerly put his hand in his hair. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s seen other people do this to give comfort, Kusanagi-san pulling Jin in, Flame reaching up to mess up Takeru’s locks. Probably he’s messing it up, but he he has to do _something_.

“I also want to say that it _felt_ awful.” now Yusaku feels the wetness on his neck, the one he expected before. “But at the time it _didn’t_ . It felt good not having to hold back all the time, not having to be _careful_.”

“But how is that – “ he trails off, doesn’t know if he _should_ ask, but he still doesn’t understand, what this has to do with _them_.

“It’s the same.” Takeru says, pulling back, hand rising to cradle Yusaku’s face. “It _feels_ the same, when we are together, my control slipping away from me. And I can’t do that to you, do you understand.” He’s holding Yusaku’s face between both of his hands now thumbs subconsciously moving to caress him.

“What does it feel like?” Yusaku asks relentless. Takeru lets out a frustrated, agitated chuckle, but his eyes have that steely glint in them, that tells Yusaku that he’s going to be honest, straight forward – trying to scare him away.

“Every time I touch you, I just want to _possess_ you, to make you _helpless_ beneath me.” he says quietly, “I can feel my instincts rising in me, it makes me feel untethered. _God_ , “ another hysterical laugh, his voice climbing now, “I can tell how _good_ it would feel to just let go, to just let me feel everything, to be – “

“ – free.” Yusaku finishes for him. It does sound nice, the way he tells it. He kind of wants that for Takeru. But that’s not why he says: “I haven’t changed my mind.”

He says it because it’s true. Takeru lets out a despairing sound. “I wish you’d stop that.”

“Stop what?” Because he’s not even doing anything right now. It can’t be talking – everyone is always on at him about doing that _more_.

“Sacrificing yourself for others.” he replies, as if it was obvious. “Protecting them. I know that’s what you _do,_ it’s what you are, but I want to be the person that protects _you_.”

He’s clearly gearing up for a whole thing now and Yusaku has to stop him there, because _what_ . “That’s not what I’m doing.” he sounds frustrated now, but Takeru was honest to him, even knowing it might hurt him – so he deserves the same courtesy. “Stop trying to interpret things that aren’t there. I said, I’m not scared, because I’m _not_.”

“And it’s not because I’m _brave_ , before you start on that bullshit.” he says quickly, because the glint of hero-worship Takeru had in his eyes through his little tirade is getting brighter. “It’s because there is no reason to.”

“Weren’t you _listening_ , I – “

“You were angry and some assholes you didn’t know attacked you. And you didn’t care enough about them to stop yourself, correct?” he says. Takeru nods reluctantly.

“Are you angry now?” he asks.

“Of course not, why would I – “ he interrupts him again, because Yusaku can feel that he is getting somewhere with this line of attack, can almost scent it in the air.

“You know me?” Takeru just nods, clearly seeing the path he is taking. Uncomfortable with it, but unable to stop him, like watching your opponent link summon their ace monster.

“You care about me?” he doesn’t want his voice to waver at that and it  mostly doesn’t.

Takeru says “I do. A lot.” with so much warmth that it almost distracts him from where he is going with this, but he gives his head a little shake, slightly disgusted with himself, at being so _easy_ for Takeru, even if the other man doesn’t seem to know.

“Then there is no problem.” he finishes. “Probably you _will_ lose control,” he says to seal off that line of counter-attack, “let go of your instincts, go a bit crazy with it all.” he shrugs. “So will I. It’s kind of the point of this whole thing.”

“Perhaps you’ll even bite me.” he tries to give his smile the dirty edge he’s seen on Ema’s face so often. “At least if I’m lucky.” He waits out the expected choked cough, the scarlet blush rising.

“But – ” and now he covers the hand still on the side of his face and summons every bit of conviction he has into his voice, tries to conjure up Playmaker on the battlefield laying down his final card for a hard won victory in Takeru’s mind “ – no matter what, I will be fine, I will be _safe_ with you.” He can see the impact his words have, see Takeru swaying with it, taking in what he says. _Believing_ it, in the way he always does with Yusaku, humbling and terrifying at once.

“Promise?” Takeru asks, eyes swimming with tears, hanging on his words as if they are the only thing real, the only thing to prop him up.

“Yes.” he says and in that moment he realises he _does_ , _will_ make this happen no matter what it takes. Feels it as a vow deep in his bones, settling into the place that holds the promise to _find answers_ , to _help Kusanagi-san_ , to _be there for Ai_ . Realizes that this is just a new bit of a pact he’s already made with himself, determined to _make Takeru happy._

“Ok.” Takeru breathes out between them and Yusaku relaxes at that, because finally the strain he didn’t even know he’d noticed leaves his voice, something intangible gone that was making his hair stand on edge, making him jittery with the need to _do_ something. The undertone to it that said that Takeru wasn’t happy and his bone deep conviction that that _cannot stand._

“Ok.” he repeats. He’s tired now, not in his body, but in his _soul_ , all this emotional honesty draining. He’s done enough, he thinks. What he needs now is to not think for a while and with that thought the want comes back, desire hitting him like a hammer. He's suddenly acutely aware of Takeru's body on his, their thighs pressing together, his scent all around him.

He _wants_.

He moves forward to close the distance between them and while Takeru lets out a surprised noise against his mouth, he doesn’t protest. Moves forward instead, to take control of the kiss, nipping at his lips and moving his hand to cradle the back of his head.

His hands slip down then and the scent of Takeru’s arousal gets sharp when he finds bare skin, as if he also has finally caught up with the fact that Yusaku is half naked beneath him. Yusaku can’t help the moan that he lets out at that, the scent around him primal and irresistible. It’s extremely satisfying that he can feel a corresponding hardness against his own, that this little interlude didn’t kill Takeru’s libido to any noticeable degree.

They break apart, both panting. “ _Off_.” Yusaku bites out, manages to get his thoughts together enough to add “clothes” at Takeru’s hurt look.

“ _Oh!_ ” Takeru breathes against him, relief and embarrassed happiness all over his face, so Yusaku has to tilt his hips up some more for him to snap out of this pleased surprise and _move_ . What follows is a scramble and to Yusaku’s surprise Takeru is naked before him, despite him being fully clothed before, anticipation not making him fumble at all. Which is _promising_.

Another promising thing is Takeru settling in an alert posture before him, eyes fixed on Yusaku’s movements, clearly waiting to pounce the moment Yusaku has removed his last bit of clothing. It perversely makes him want to draw things out, to let the energy crackling between them build. He stops himself from indulging that impulse, because who _knows_ what other emotional drama he’ll unleash if he lets Takeru gather his thoughts into any coherency. He’s not going to cockblock _himself_ if he can help it.

The helpless whine Takeru lets out when he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his underwear sends a shiver down his spine, makes him clumsy, gets it caught up in his tail for a second. He looks up to share a wry grin with Takeru only for his mouth to dry up at the mix of arousal and _wonder_ on the other one’s face, all pretense wiped away in this moment, stark emotions written on every one of his features.

He holds his eyes while he pulls his underwear all the way down, so he sees the second Takeru realises that he’s done, sees his eyes focus, his teeth shining through his open mouth. He just gets his legs open before Takeru is _right there_ , hand buried back in his hair, tilting his head gently so his neck is exposed.

Yusaku stays very very still, doesn’t fight against the hold even when he’s bent so far to the side that he cannot see Takeru anymore, a predator out of view. His dick twitches at that, his heartbeat quick but even. Because he wasn’t lying before – he’s _excited_ but not afraid.

“Oh _God_ , Yusaku,” Taker says, voiced crackling with hunger mixed with a sort of elated relief – Yusaku doesn’t have time to ponder this further however, because all of his rational thought swiftly leaves him at the sensation of razor sharp teeth settling _gently_ against his throat, staying there for a while, before slowly moving up and down the whole length down to his collarbone, soft pressure.

He’s vibrating slightly, can’t help it, the threat, the _promise_ of those sharp teeth so close to where he’s so vulnerable is driving him out of his _mind_ . He can hear himself making undignified noises high in his throat but he doesn’t care. It has the advantage of  slightly drowning out the flow of endearments coming from Takeru, the way he can’t seem to stop himself from whispering between every not-bite – how much Yusaku means to him, how beautiful he is, how Takeru can’t believe he’d _let_ him.

Words Yusaku doesn’t know how to deal with, how to _respond_ to, when they are so obviously earnestly meant, Takeru so defenseless and open in this heated space between them. The combination of it all makes his arousal ratchet up higher and higher, intensified by him not being able to _move_ , the tiny daggers so close to where his blood is pumping making him keep as still as possible.

It seems to go on forever, anticipation swelling, every nerve ending crackling with _need_ , more and more sensitive with every pass of those teeth over his delicate skin. He adds his tongue, warm wetness combining with his breath, sending a full body shiver through him. It seems to go on forever, until he’s a mess of sensation, every nerve ending on fire.

The sound he lets out when Takeru finally sinks his teeth in, next to his shoulder, away from any possible artery, is high and desperate, louder than he normally ever is, ripped out of him, the sting of pain a welcome relief after what feels like hours of anticipation.

His hips snap up, hands scrabbling at Takeru’s wide shoulders, white light behind his eyes. He keeps himself from coming by pure force of will, hanging onto the edge by the skin of his teeth. Normally he wouldn’t care, but he _needs_ Takeru in him and he’s just the sort of idiot who would refuse to if Yusaku has already come.

He comes back to himself panting loudly, every breath mixed with a tiny moan to Takeru lapping up his blood with a tenderness that makes something clench inside him. He gropes blindly for the lube that he’d dropped earlier, squeezes out a good amount while Takeru is distracted and grabs the first of his dicks he can reach.

It obviously takes Takeru by surprise, because he bites down again, just next to the previous spot. He pulls back immediately, an appalled looks dawning on his face. Yusaku squeezes down again, prompting a strangled yelp _._

“Y-Yusaku.” he stammers, “Are you sure, we don’t have – “

“If you try to talk yourself out of fucking me again.” he growls back, “I will knock you out and help _myself_ to your dicks.” He’s not serious, but maybe he _is_. It makes Takeru speechless for a second, which might be just as well – clearly talking is not going to get them to the point Yusaku wants to get to.

He slides his hand over the dick in his hand again, enjoying the ridges, the solidness of it in his hand. He coats it liberally with lube, using the time to consider. He’s pretty relaxed, and Takeru is _dripping_ , but it’s been some time. On the other hand he thinks a bit of pain will be worth it for the expediency of getting Takeru inside him _right now_.

So he moves into position, lining Takeru so he can finally –

“No!” he shouts, alarm in his voice, stopping him in his tracks. The growl Yusaku lets out at that is distinctly un-bunny-like.

“What _now_ “ he says through gritted teeth.

“You a- a- aren’t prepared yet!” Takeru exclaims, brows drawn together in concern, despite the flush all over him.

Yusaku lets out a snort, “It’s fine.” Tries to continue only to be stopped not by Takeru’s words this time, but by his hands on his arms, exerting a gentle but uncompromising force on him. He tries to resist for a moment, but finds that he _can’t_ , effortlessly overpowered in an instant.

It makes his dick throb, his muscles clench, reminds him how _close_ he was just minutes ago, his neglected body screaming out. He snaps his hips slightly up, eyebrows raised. Hopes that communicates _get on with it then_ , without him having to say it.

Takeru has his determined face on, so Yusaku settles back with a sigh and hands him the lube still in his hands – no use arguing with him when he’s like this. Even Flame gives up at this point, even if whatever Takeru is attempting is sure to end in disaster, like trying to configure his own mobile phone set ups.

Takeru coats his fingers in enough lube that it drips down in huge blobs. He settles more carefully between his legs. Yusaku uses this opportunity to settle more onto his arms, raises his legs higher to take some weight off where his tail is uncomfortably wedged between his back and the mattress. Taker clearly gets distracted for a second by Yusaku’s thighs spread out next to him like that, before Yusaku makes a sound in the back of his throat, thrusts his hips the tiniest bit up with this new leverage.

“Focus.” he says, but he can’t help the smirk. After a whole three months of having to _wonder_ – there is a part of him that revels in this clear proof of his body still serving in the way he expects it to.

“Right!” Takeru squeaks out and it does something to Yusaku to actually see the blush spreading down his whole chest, “Will do! Absolutely only focus on, ummm,” he stumbles, eyes trying to focus on Yusaku’s crotch and at the same time jerking back up, as if he’s unsure about something.

“You know that you _are_ allowed to look?” he says, though surely that’s not the problem, they are going to _fuck_ after all. Even Takeru wouldn’t go as far as –

“ _Really?”_ Takeru says with a small wondering voice. Something in his face must have communicated his thoughts on _that_ , because he goes into full rambling mode, words almost blending together, eyes still not moving anywhere close to where Yusaku’s dick is laying on his belly, hard and pulsing, “I mean of course I knew that! It’s not that I didn’t! It just feels almost _impolite_ and I don’t want to seem like I’m staring or that I only want _that_ part of you or – “

“Are you going to continue?” Yusaku interrupts, because to him that’s really the only pertinent question. He’s not even going to _touch_ all the rest of it right now, because _what the fuck Takeru_.

“ _Yes_!” it comes out quick and low and with a growl behind it, sharp teeth starting to be bared, before Takeru clearly reins himself in. “If that’s what you want! I mean – “ He peters off at Yusaku just collapsing back fully. Takeru really can be exhausting sometimes.

“I don’t know how I can be clearer about this.” he says at the ceiling, before a thought occurs to him, “Or do you _want_ me to beg?” because that would be surprising to say the least, but would be at least an explanation Yusaku could understand.

When he looks back at Takeru his eyes are completely black – not just expanded pupils but pitch black, staring fixedly at him, taking deep breaths through his mouth (so he can’t _smell_ him, Yusaku realises, the scent of his blood probably still hovering in the air around them). He’s trembling all over with the strain of not moving, gills fluttering madly.

He’s clearly hanging by a thread, poised and ready but still not moving. Yusaku rolls his eyes, but can’t help the flutter at warmth at this level of – he doesn’t even know, consideration? attention? mindfulness? – for him.

“And you thought you’d seriously hurt me.” he mutters under his breath, before levering himself up to guide Takeru’s wet fingers inside him, hoping that that will move things along.

The effect is instantaneous. He’s suddenly thrown fully onto his back, his head reeling with the impact and the sheer _speed_ of it. Takeru is hovering over him, still with those slightly unsettling eyes fixed on him, having somehow managed to gather up both of Yusaku’s wrists and pressing them into the bed.

He’s almost bent in half, position slightly uncomfortable, but he can’t care about it, because Takeru is moving the fingers of his other hand in and out of him with slow deliberation. He can feel every centimeter entering, the wet glide of skin on skin, while the intensity Takeru is looking at him with makes him quaver.

It takes too long again, Takeru still not moving on quickly enough for his tastes, but this time he can’t _do_ anything, immobilized between Takeru’s hands and his body, can only bite his lips on the pathetic mewl, when Takeru starts nuzzling his face, softest bites into the thin skin of his ears.

He’s so distracted by it that for a moment he doesn’t understand what Takeru taking his fingers out and resettling means, when he feels him starting to push in a slow inexorable glide. All the tension goes out of him, melting into this, because _yes_ . He tugs against the hands holding him, because he wants, _needs –_

Takeru makes a noise in his throat and lets him slip them out of his grasp, moving upwards, _away,_  before he’s stopped by Yusaku _clinging_ to his back for some reason. He doesn’t know, it doesn’t make sense, it’s too close, too warm, cloying heat between their bodies, making him dizzy with it, with how he’s still not _close enough_.

He catches Takeru’s mouth pouring every bit of confused desperation into it and relief sweeps through him when he’s met with at least equal fervour, when he can feel Takeru’s arms coming around him, clutching him back like he’s the last port in a storm and it lights up his every nerve.

He can hear himself making staccato sounds into Takeru’s mouth, punched out of him on every thrust but he’s beyond embarrassment, beyond questioning why he’s suddenly decided to be vocal. He’s just _feeling_ things now, Takeru’s fingertips on the small of his back, the bright burst of pleasure with every slide inwards, panting into Takeru’s neck.

HIs orgasm comes over him like an explosion, he can’t hold himself up anymore, sags into Takeru’s hold. He’s twitching uncontrollable, pleasure crashing through him, intensified by Takeru all around him, keeping him from slipping, the desperate noises he makes against him, beyond anything approaching words, but clutching Yusaku so tightly that he can almost make out the frenzied babble hidden beneath.

He must pass out for a second, breath and consciousness squeezed out of him by Takeru’s arms and the pleasure of Takeru continued thrust ratcheting up the intensity until it’s too much, too much, _too much._

When he gets his bearings back, he’s facedown, Takeru draped all over his back, his dick a frantic wet slide inside of where Yusaku is tender and overstimulated – yet he can’t help the tingle of pleasure, the twitch in his dick when he realises what it is that’s brushing along his small, furry tail on every thrust - that it’s Takeru’s spent dick, that what is easing the way in must be his first load. That he didn’t even stop, can’t _seem_ to stop, control gone, the only thing in him the _need_ to have Yusaku, fully and completely.

The noises Takeru is making against his ears, his neck, the frantic mouthing along new bite marks Yusaku doesn’t even remember getting – Takeru is far gone now, given himself over to his need and instinct and yet his  his fingers are entwined tightly with Yusaku’s, is roaming over his body with the other one so gently, settling on his stomach, his mouth peppering Yusaku’s neck with the softest kisses.

He finds he’s hard again, he doesn’t even know _how -_ his refractory period might be shorter than average, but not _that_ short – and yet here he is, suddenly frantic, eyes damp for no reason at all.

He can’t stop himself from letting out a _please_ , the tiniest _yes_ , moving with Takeru as best as he can, every part of them stuck together in abandonment, gloriously _alive_.

When he comes it’s the slowest, inexorable glide, enveloping, Takeru on him, in _him_ , searing every part of him, until all he can see, can feel is the fire burning through him unforgiving and consuming and so gentle that the only thing he can gasp out is his name, before the flame fully takes him into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

Takeru comes to slowly and while he can feel the comfortable familiarity of his room, he can tell that something is _different_ , niggling at him so he can’t quite fall back asleep. He can hear someone else breathing next to him and instead of making him nervous, it relaxes him in some bone-deep way, something in it telling him he’s _safe_ and _protected_.

What makes him fight his way through this half-slumber is the scent of all the _other_ things – sweat and stale air and – his eyes jerk open –   _blood_.

All at once last night’s events crash in. He almost doesn’t look over at the other man in the bed, at _Yusaku_ , because he doesn’t want to see, doesn’t want to _know_ , but – he owes it to him.

The sight that greets him makes his heart drop into his stomach, the last bit of sleep ripped away from him. Yusaku is a _mess_ , no matter that he’s sleeping more peacefully than any other time Takeru can remember seeing him. His neck is scattered with bite marks, bruises everywhere, on his legs, his _wrists_.

Takeru is aware that he’s breathing too quickly, but he can’t stop himself, _what has he_ done _,_ his eyes blurring with frustrated tears, because he’d _sworn_ to himself that this would never happen again and _definitely_ not to Yusaku, who he _loved_ , who was his everything, even if he couldn’t say it out loud yet.

He’s suddenly yanked out of that train of thought by an arm entering his field of vision. It surprises him so much, that he follows its movements without resistance, even though the strength applied is nothing more than a whisper.

“Stop freaking out.” Yusaku mumbles out against the pillow he’s still buried into.

“But I –” he intervenes, because surely Yusaku can’t be _okay_ with this. He can feel himself blushing being so close to him when he’s fully _naked_ and also his recollection of last night is fully coming back to him and he just wants to bury his face somewhere, he can’t believe he did it _twice_.

HIs face suddenly _is_ hidden – it’s squished against Yusaku’s thin chest, a hand buried in his hair to keep him there. “You did good.” Yusaku says on a yawn, clearly unaware of the explosion of butterflies it evokes, a wash of warmth down to his toes. “Sleep.” Which is apparently all he wants to say about that, because he settles down against him, his breathing evening out.

Takeru holds on to his tension for another moment, before he decides to just – let it go, for now at least. He tentatively puts his arm around Yusaku’s waist and resolves to just bask in this, at being so close, for as long as he’s allowed. Yusaku should be freaking out about this more, he _knows_ that, but maybe just for now he can just enjoy _this_ , spring breeze in the room and Yusaku’s smell around him.

He’s almost asleep again when he hears the muttered “Next time you should put them both in at the same time.” and makes a note to die of mortification later.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me about this dumb show on twitter


End file.
